


Unforeseen Support

by Andreinightleaf



Category: Castlevania II: Simon's Quest, 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Eventual Romance, M/M, Mostly banter in the first chapter but also action, There is no romance in the first chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 15:51:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5169581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andreinightleaf/pseuds/Andreinightleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"In present times, however, night was now equivalent to a living nightmare."</p><p>Set during Simon’s Quest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unforeseen Support

This particular one is not in Simon’s POV. Most of my others set during, after and inbetween the events of Castlevania and Simon’s Quest will be in Simon’s POV, but this one just happened to get ‘finished’ first. It’s not even the first I began writing.

Castlevania, Simon Belmont and all of his relatives belong to Konami.

Title might be changed, minor edits might be made.

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   The sun was setting in the horizon.

   In a not-so-distant past, the resting of the sun would usually only mean dinner and bed time. Wild animals would often become bolder at this time of day, the darkness in the forest proving menacing as it hid such creatures and bandits, but there was no real danger—for the most part. More often than not, those who went in and out of the forest at nighttime were not attacked or mugged, and the village was so small that there were no thieves lurking in the shadows. It was common for friends to visit each other after dinner. An odd bear could appear and make people lock themselves in their houses sooner, but such an event was very unusual. Monsters were even rarer to show up; they existed, but even one attack in a decade was already too much coming from them. The moonlight hours were more dangerous than sunlight hours, but they were still not very harmful.

   In present times, however, night was now equivalent to a living nightmare. The last time monsters had roamed in such quantity had been seven years past. Doors that would have been only locked weeks before were now barricaded. Wooden planks, chairs, tables and chains were employed in the effort of keeping the evil beings outside, alongside crosses built in above the doors and rosaries resting at windowsills. The villagers knelt and prayed every night inside their homes, prayed for the apparitions to be vanquished and the horrible darkness to end and blend into morning.

   When all is still, the living dead do not attempt to invade the houses. The bats encircled in dark energy, much larger than normal bats, perch themselves atop roofs and chimneys, resting. Sleeping earlier inside barricaded houses were all the people could do to protect themselves from the threat; from past experience, they knew that they could not stand a chance against the evil beings. They had managed to keep themselves safe for some time, until a certain night, in that same week.

   A pair of young siblings, who had not managed to get back to their home in time, had been murdered by the dark creatures.

   The village mourned, but nobody could cease their activities for very long; in a place so small, if even two people stopped working for a time, the whole population could get compromised. Some people were doing double the effort in their work just so they could make up for the friends and family in hurting.

   Florin was one of these people.

   He had been born in the village and grew up in it, like most of its inhabitants. The only child of two older parents, he was a dreamer when it came to what he could work with, though all he did was help the innkeeper with his business, and his parents with a small garden for themselves. The latter two admonished him somewhat for the type of occupation he had at this age, and the fact that he had not yet gotten married and given them grandchildren. He felt guilty for them sometimes, but deep within he in reality didn’t mind his condition. A wife or a husband and children were not priority for him, even in the age of twenty-seven. His mother, though satisfied with her child, was still unhappy about the fact, and insisted in presenting him to other young men and women, all while showing him the other couples sitting by the fountain, the flower shop or the benches of the main road, either teenagers or parents in their early twenties and with small children.

   “ _You’re so handsome, I don’t understand why you’re still not married!”_ She would exclaim, sometimes scowling, as she touched his blond curls. Florin would then let out a small, bashful breath of a laugh, choosing not to comment.

   The innkeeper playfully teased him about his attractive looks, but wasn’t interested. An older, experienced man, he was profoundly glad for the younger’s help with his job, and treated him almost like a surrogate son. Unlike the blond’s parents, he didn’t really mind when or if the other ever got married; he was happy if the other was happy. Florin usually cleaned the tables  of the inn’s small restaurant at the end of the day, and helped him deal with traders and carry goods to and from the place.

   ‘At the end of the day’, however, now meant something much sooner than in previous months. Before, he could just do his duties and be back home after dinner, but currently, he had to give up one of such luxuries, with nighttime now meaning to barricade yourself somewhere. He had decided to begin sleeping at the inn for the night, and coming home the morning after to spend some time with his parents. There was always the possibility of dropping his job before nightfall, but that was definitely not a honorable action. It was important for him to abide by his duties until the end, and if that meant sleeping at the inn almost every day, then he would. The innkeeper was even kind enough to provide a bedroom just for him, without him needing to pay for it.

   That day, with the sun painting the sky orange in its descent, the ones who were not sleeping at the inn already began standing up to leave the ‘café’. Florin smiled as they went, waving goodbye as he leaned against the counter, and waiting until the last one had left through the door to address the innkeeper, “May I build the barricade now, sir? I am positive that the sun is touching horizon’s line.”

   Normal chattering could be heard along the few lines of tables, aside from a group or two which bursts into fits of chuckles occasionally. The man behind the counter stopped what he was doing to move towards the younger, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder. “You may. I’ll remind the cook to begin preparing your meal, so it will be done by the time you are finished with the door.”

   Despite the encompassing scent of food permeating the place,  it was the man’s words that caused Florin’s stomach to rumble lightly. He blushed at that, realizing that he hadn’t eaten anything in a while, which made the reminder sound all the better. The other gave him a knowing grin, and waved him away as he went back to his work.

   The blonde walked towards the entrance, beginning to organize the materials already close to it. He grabbed three wooden planks, crafted with the sturdiest and strongest wood in the land, to place across the door held by metal supports on either side. After them, he dragged the nearest empty table towards its front, and rested the edge against it. Another table was brought to join the first one, and then, some chairs were piled against the door and on top of them. Some of the people stopped their eating or chattering to watch him work, while others didn’t due to already being used to this daily necessity. At last, he wrapped a rosary around the doorknob, and stood back to analyze his handiwork, looking for any imperfections. Deeming the barricade good enough, he proceeded to close the windows and place wooden planks and rosaries on them, too, and by the time he was done, his stomach was hurting a little. It was a welcoming sight to see his plate resting on the counter, the innkeeper waiting for him.

   “Again, a job well done. I am still thinking about raising your pay, my boy. What say you?”

   “It’s—that is not necessary, sir.” He was a little taken aback by the offer, but tried to recover quickly. “It is only my duty. People are traveling less and less, therefore you should worry about handling your current expenses.”

   “Worry not, my son, I can always spare a little more for you and your great work.” He placed the warm plate on his hands, “Now, go eat. It’s a well-deserved meal.” He gave him a friendly wink.

   Florin smiled, nodding. He didn’t want to think about his pay now; at first, he had begun working for him for free, as an extra arm to help with his job. And then, he began requesting some coins in exchange for him working harder some days. And afterwards, he started helping almost every day. It was an escalating routine, which eventually caused the innkeeper to begin paying him with a set value, much higher than just the few coins he sometimes requested. He was happy that he was receiving any pay at all, so he didn’t particularly desire more. Though everyone seemed to be going through rough times…maybe the man was trying to help him in his own way. His features softened at the thought.

   Most tables were occupied. Even the ones who had already finished eating were still sitting, conversing with their companions or the groups around them. Dinner time was a time for bonding, so Florin didn’t really mind them. Besides, he could sit at most places—even occupied tables—without a problem. Of course, if the occupants of such a table were alright with him sitting with them. In times where the ‘café’ received lots of visitors, he had to eat standing by the counter, so he had grown used to sitting where he was able to.

   The nearest mostly-empty table had only one occupant. It was at the edge of the place, to the side of the corridor which led the way from the counter towards the entrance. The man—or woman, perhaps?—sitting at it was cloaked, nearly immobile, presumably staring at the nearly-empty plate in front of them. Most times, Florin knew better to not disturb those who did not look like they wanted to be disturbed, but now, he felt a bit curious. Perhaps this person just needed some sort of support, someone to talk to so they could feel better. Many others would call this cloaked figure an ‘unsavory type’—including his parents—, but he didn’t see any danger in someone being so quiet and hidden amongst many people. Especially if they were a gypsy, since this group seemed to be frowned upon around the land for some reason. Perhaps they were not even sad—just tired.

   Taking a deep breath, the young man walked towards the figure, who just barely moved their head as he approached. He allowed a gentle smile to fall onto his lips, and mustered in a friendly voice, “Can I sit here?”

   The person turned their head towards him in an angle that allowed him to see perfectly neutral lips, and the edge of the coat’s hood swished lightly with the curt nod he was given. Florin nodded in response, thanking the other and pulling a chair silently, only to sit on it almost elegantly afterwards. He usually sat normally, but he didn’t want to give the figure any bad impressions or reasons to feel uncomfortable. He wanted them to feel normal—or even comforted, if possible—around his presence.

   He set the plate down, taking his fork and beginning to eat. With the first bite, he allowed himself a quick glance into the other’s dark hood, noticing he had looked away, but then looked back as soon as his eyes had left them. From the little he had seen, the contours of their face seemed to be delicate, and their hair was long, fringe tapping at their eyelids and kissing their cheeks from the sides. It could merely be an effect from the firelight coupled with the dark shadows cast inside the hood, but the hair color was nothing that he could clearly discern. A shade of brown, he would risk, but it definitely wasn’t light like blond, yet nor too dark like black. He would also risk to tell that he was male, though he could not be too sure.

   After eating a healthy amount of his meal, he looked at the other again, but this time, without as much fear of getting caught. The cloaked figure returned the gaze, with eyes which held sharpness, but also seemed very, very tired. They—he, he presumed— exuded an air of fatigue, he could now note, with his features looking bland and dull, as if the sun had suctioned the shine off of his being and then refused to shine down upon him any longer. There were heavy bags underneath his eyes, and Florin could only imagine how he was probably much paler than normal. It pained him to see someone like that, a man looking so—broken. Along years, they had received many weary travelers in the inn, but none of them had looked quite like this. He knew the difference between only physical exhaustion, and physical exhaustion coupled with something else. This man was not only exhausted, but drained. Drained of more than just strength— rather, something he couldn’t regain with only a good night’s sleep.

   His gaze was still being met levelly. Florin looked away briefly, feeling a little weaker himself, but then looked back at the other, features a little softer. “The nights…they have become a burden, have they not?”

   He was reminded of the young teenagers who had been murdered that same week. The blonde felt an inner chill, various terrible scenarios coming up to haunt him about the man’s situation. Oh, dear, he really hoped the other had not lost anything of utter importance and emotional value—he didn’t know how capable he was of comforting someone in such a horrible, horrible situa-

   “They have.”

   It was a curt response. Unconsciously, Florin had turned to stare evenly at the barricade on the door, but he quickly returned his hazel eyes to the man. The cloaked person was looking down at his plate. The voice had sounded small, somewhat hoarse—and definitely belonging to a male. The blond’s heart had tightened at it, such was the depth of the other’s situation and experiences resounding through it.

   For the first time that day, he felt at a loss. He also took to staring at the plate opposite his own; some food left, but it didn’t look like it had held much to begin with.

   This was not something to be commented on, but he was probably allowed, since he worked for the inn. Besides, he felt like it was his own fault an awkward silence had descended over them both. His lips almost trembled as he nearly tripped over his next words, “Um—is—is it not good? I work here, I can talk to the cook if you’d like—”

   The other shook his head. “It is good. Do not be concerned.”

   Leaving food on the plate could also mean… Oh. He kept looking at the man’s eyes, his own softening considerably, even though the cloaked one still gazed at his own plate, “…Are you unwell? I can provide more towels for you. A bucket, warm water, you can request anything.”

   Silence. Florin waited for a response, still ignoring his own food. Food—which implied that he should apologize to the other for eating in front of him, if that was the case.

   The man opposite of him took a deep, long breath. “It’s fine. You don’t need to do anything.”

   “Sorry for eating in front of you.”

   “It’s fine.”

   The other finally looked at him, but then the blond instinctively avoided his gaze, looking at his own plate now. He decided then and there to finish eating, so he would not have to worry about that particular subject any longer. It didn’t take long.

   The chattering kept on in the other tables, with no signs of stopping. Florin absent-mindedly pressed fingertips against the dents in the wooden table, testing the texture. The other had avoided his gaze again, but this time, he wasn’t exactly looking at his eyes. He could faintly discern something beginning on the man’s neck, perhaps part of his shirt or an adornment. His hair went definitely past shoulder-length. He didn’t know if he could have seen him around before.

   “…Are you a traveler?”

   Both of their gazes moved so they would meet, almost in synch.

   “…Yes.”

   “Is this your first time in this town? I have worked here for around a decade, and I know I will not remember every single visitor we’ve had, but— I do not think I have seen you around.”

   The moment of silence was shorter, though it was visible that he had searched for the place in his memory. “I might have gone through here, once. I do not remember.”

   Florin drew his hand away from the wood, thinking for a moment. “It was good that you arrived before nightfall. Monsters are plaguing our dark hours, and from what I’ve heard of the others, it is not only here…is that true?” Upon receiving a curt nod, he continued, a bit more to himself, looking down, “Strange…These dark creatures only rise in such quantity when Dracula is alive, is it not? Yet he was defeated seven years ago…”

   He looked towards the door, again, as if his eyes could see far beyond it. He swallowed thickly.  “He rises every century, it is said. And such is true; before years ago, the last time Dracula had walked this Earth was last century. He was defeated by Christopher Belmont, twice…” Florin frowned in thought. “Could he also come back a second time now? Simon Belmont defeated him seven years ago. I thought that another century would have come to pass. Yet the evilest creatures roam about, and some of our fields are rotting without a reason, the waters of our rivers growing opaque. Is he back? Why so soon? He’s going to be weak, that way…” His eyes returned to the other, a worried frown pulling at his eyebrows. “…What think you?”

   Once more, the man was not looking at him. He was looking down, though now closer to himself rather than his plate. The blond could easily guess that the other had probably lost something dear to Dracula’s forces, but he hoped this was not too delicate of a subject to discuss. After all, their whole lives had been affected by this forsaken man, and it could be happening again.

   “Dracula also rose again three years after Trevor Belmont defeated him.” The cloaked male spoke, though his voice sounded much quieter. “Others try to revive him, after he is killed. They don’t like to believe their lord has been stricken down. Dark sorcerers, allies. He probably doesn’t mind returning at any time. He takes the chances he has.”

   “…Does that mean he is back, once more?”

   Silence. And then, “Something is definitely happening. He might. Everyone should prepare themselves for the worst.”

   It was a possibility he had been rolling over in his head for some time, but he had not spoken to anyone about it before. Now that he had, he realized that the possibility was very close to a reality. His stomach fell at the spoken words, eyes widening in a brief moment of horror. They had survived relatively well until now, but the resurrection of the dark lord could mean their untimely end. Seven years ago, it had been much the same in their small village, yet they had heard of several others being burnt down or having their population  decimated within a single night. The people around him, the ones he knew—they had no idea of the true extent of the vampire’s dark powers. Whereas they had held themselves well years ago, now they could sleep one night, only to never wake again.

   Florin hugged himself and rubbed at his arms at another inner chill. He desperately sought to not dwell on the thoughts too much. His lips had begun moving before he could help himself, “Simon would have to come back to get rid of him again…..…I cannot even begin fathoming the strength of a Belmont. This vampire has wiped whole towns from the map, yet they are able to mow down through the demonic forces in his castle and vanquish him. How can a human have such strength?… You probably know, how some of the people around are afraid of them. Before Trevor’s time, it was worse, I heard. But still some of them seem to be…distasteful. I scowl at them.” He frowned to himself. “They think the Belmonts inhuman. After all, humans can’t be that strong, according to them. So they cower, they push them away. Which is ridiculous. Human or not human, why does it matter, if they are in our side? If they protect everything we hold dear? They go alone into Dracula’s castle, risking their lives, risking everything they have, only so all will be alright. We would all have been dead, were it not for their deeds every time the vampire resurrects himself. We owe our very lives to them, and people still distrust of them? I—” He shook his head. “It’s terrible. If they can spend time with their loved ones now, it’s because the Belmont clan defeated Dracula. If they can hear their newborn child crying out their first cry, it is because those individuals have been trained all of their lives and risked themselves for our cause. How utterly ungrateful are they, to disregard the sacrifices the Belmonts have made to protect us from evil…? We would never have stood a chance.

   “I worry a lot, sometimes. I’m afraid of what the people here would do if Simon ever came around. How many would show their gratitude, how many would send him a bitter look…It’s…” He let out a heavy breath of frustration. Truly, he was impressed at how much he was letting out with this stranger. But he had not had a deeper conversation for so many months—he didn’t believe he could stop himself now. It felt good, to be able to talk like this, have someone listen.

   “…What would you do?”

   The other’s voice was controlled. Florin still did not look at him.                                        

   “If Simon Belmont came here? Well, I—I believe I would do my best to make him feel welcome and comfortable.” The question had caught him unaware, but he attempted to recover quickly. As much as he would hesitate to admit it, it was a scenario he had reflected upon before. “I would offer my services as best as I could, and I would not allow anyone to make him feel threatened…I’d also thank him with every breath in my body, for I know for sure that, if he had not come for Dracula seven years ago, I would no longer be walking upon this Earth. If he—well, this is never going to happen,” His voice lowered, hands moving to absent-mindedly curl around his locks as he spoke,  “But if he requested aid in fighting, I would not hesitate in accepting it. I am more than willing to risk my life to help the one who made it possible.

“I wanted to…show him the gratitude he truly deserves. If nobody has done that, at least I will.” His eyelids dropped halfway, and he took in a deep breath, relaxing slightly against the chair. “We knew when Dracula was gone, back then, but there were no news of our saviour. I feared the worst, sometimes, but then a traveler came months later and said he had already returned home. It seemed so…surreal. The threat was there, then it was gone, and nobody seemed to care about the man who risked it all. It could have been as if nothing had happened—yet it had. The graves were in an array, and more were placed on the graveyard afterwards. Fences were broken, gardens ripped to shreds, and the images of the horrible creatures were imprinted into everyone’s minds. Yet…” He heaved a sigh, throwing his hands in the air briefly before rubbing at his eyes slowly and roughly. “I am sorry, I really don’t stop my monologue, do I?”

   Florin had half-expected a response, at least for the last statement. Even a simple, ‘it’s fine’, as the man had shown to use the expression. But he heard nothing coming from the other. Moving his hands away from his eyes, he couldn’t help the very slight raising of his eyebrows as he looked towards his acquaintance, but then, the sight that met him made his mouth become dry.

   There was a small, but genuine smile on the cloaked one’s lips and eyes. The weariness was still very visibly written across his features, eyelids still resting half-way, but there was now undeniable warmth in his expression. The blond’s heart skipped a beat, eyes widening of their own accord at the sheer surprise he felt. He kept frozen, even as the man opposite of him breathed a content breath and parted his lips to speak.

   “I am…glad.”

   Frantic, loud beating sounds resonated through the room.

   Everyone’s gazes were instantly drawn to the door. A deep silence befell each table.

   The banging was constant and violent, though the desperate one was obviously not that strong. “Please, please let me in! I beg of you! –– Mom! Dad! They’re after me!” A child’s voice shrieked, and the beating only became louder. The most immediate response came from a couple which had been mostly silent throughout their entire meal; the man nearly stumbled on the chairs in his effort to get to the door as fast as he could, the woman stumbling right after him. They shoved the chairs out of the way with sheer strength, dragging the tables away as if they were made of paper. The child outside wailed.

   “Nicolae, hang in there!” The woman—most likely the mother—yelled, voice laced with desperation.

   Florin’s expression was very similar to the one he held before, but now, most of the color had left his face, fear clutching his heart so tightly it hurt. His urgent gaze sought his acquaintance instinctively, and he noted that the man had pulled himself a little away from the table, eyes trained directly into the events at the door. He didn’t seem frightened, as they all were, but more….concentrated, instead. If he was panicking inside, he definitely did not show it.

   “THEY ARE HERE! THEY ARE HERE!”

   The parents removed the wooden bars hastily, chipping off some wood in the process, with the child’s cries becoming more desperate. Florin returned his gaze to the entrance, gripping tightly at the table.

   The door was literally shoved open. The father gripped his son’s arm immediately with a grunt, but a putrid creature had already gotten hold of the young one’s other arm. Wailing and crying, the boy shook his head violently, and his mother was ready to throw herself at the undead, when a loud, cracking sound shook the air.

   A roar came from the zombie when its arm disintegrated, and the father fell back inside with his child. Another high-pitched cracking noise came, and the dark creature was cut in half, disappearing into flames with a hoarse cry.

   Florin blinked, taking several seconds to register that an undead had been at their doorstep moments ago, but then it was gone just as soon, and he had not even registered any form of attack coming from anywhere. The small family huddled together, stumbling even further inside the café, towards a safer spot. Heart beating frantically and painfully, he again sought his companion on instinct.

   Were it not attached to his head, his jaw would have hit the floor.

   The cloaked man was standing, his hood having fallen back to reveal a curtain of light blood-red tresses. The cloak was set behind towards his back due to the position of his arms, which exposed him almost entirely, as opposed to before, where it was draped across his shoulders. There were bandages covering his arms and legs, a contrast against the dark color of most of his outfit, his red half-vest being the only lively shade amongst the black, brown and silver. Florin’s eyes, however, had moved to quickly being transfixed onto something more; a black whip rested on the man’s right hand, still in a combative stance.

   He didn’t have much longer to contemplate the shocking reveal, as the other was already running towards the door, standing just outside of it and groaning as he lashed out with his whip in an horizontal arc, defeating several other undead. He reached into his vest to pull out a vial of holy water, uncorking it and throwing its contents in a half-circle which brought up blue flames from the ground where they landed. Immediately after that, he backtracked to the inside of the café, pushing the door shut and taking the wooden bars to again barricade the place.

   Most of the people had hid behind the counter in fear, or beneath the tables closest to the corners away from the windows. Florin had not, however. As soon as he realized what his acquaintance was trying to do, he stood up on wobbly legs, swallowing dryly as he nearly stumbled over to the door. He picked up the third plank to place in the supports, and then moved towards the first table, adrenaline pumping in his veins all the while. As he began pushing the table, he noted the other moving out of the way to do the same, and couldn’t help looking up at him again. The whip wielder sent him a grateful look, moving away as soon as the table had bumped on the door to reach for the other one. They prepared the barricade together, in silence, until the last chair had been placed. Afterwards, they stood back to measure the stability of the work, and then, the warrior turned away. A bit startled by the suddenness of the apparent leave, the blonde turned his way soon afterwards, but the other had not taken even one step. Hesitantly, the cloaked one turned his head towards Florin, dulled yellow eyes weary, but still with some vestiges of warmth from earlier.

   “…Thank you.”

   With that, Simon Belmont retired to his own room.

 

———————————————————————————–

It’s a bit complicated to write Castlevania during the seventeenth century, as the only canon characters living in that period are Simon and Dracula (Death and Carmilla’s head too, if you prefer. And the Ferryman.) It’s hard to not create OCs to interact with Simon—Florin has a personality that clearly belongs to himself, but he’s almost literally just an ordinary man. Unlike many NPCs in at least one town in Simon’s Quest, however, he respects the Belmonts for their courageous deeds. A friend of mine pointed out that he seems like a fanboy here—it was not my intention, and I apologize if he does seem so. Most of this story just wrote itself, so it couldn’t be wholly helped.

Again, because of the small cast, it was a given that the cloaked man would be Simon. I still love the concept, however; even if someone takes the hint from the beginning, you still get to see a character you know but not being named. And you get to see how others react before and after the reveal.

I had planned on cutting the story off much later for a first chapter—but I realized this could work as a chapter already. I’m still afraid that some parts look rushed or wrong, but there’s not much I can help about it, too. I hope it might make someone happy.

Also, they are not supposed to be love interests in this instance. (Aka not yet).


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